


Eddie's Jacket | Reddie

by maxisprettygay (orphan_account)



Series: Max's terrible, disgusting writing. [11]
Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22353406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/maxisprettygay
Summary: Richie finds something that takes him back to the not so good ole days.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Max's terrible, disgusting writing. [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1175891
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Eddie's Jacket | Reddie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eddiesjacket (Tricksters_Wings)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tricksters_Wings/gifts).



> This started off as a vent fic after a guy I got waaaaayyyy too attached to dumped me for another girl (but they might break up so jokes on him) and the first person I sent this to so she could help me was Pigeon. She quite literally fell in love it. She changed her user for everything to the title of my book and ngl the fact that I can't think of more for this makes me feel horrible cause she was so excited, but when Christmas rolled around I told myself this was gonna be her present and then I couldn't think of anything to add (even after having two other friends look it over for me)(then I kept forgetting to show Ri). But I'm sorry it took so long but Merry belated Christmas, Pigeon. Thank you for always being here for me after everything. I love you.

Richie hated cleaning days. 

He always did. His mom had set the cleaning days up a little after he turned five since his room was always dirty and he never cleaned up unless told to, so she made him clean every Sunday.

It didn't help that Cleaning Sundays were now forever engraved in his mind until he died (which was probably soon, but he wouldn't know, Bev refused to tell them). But he knew he still had a few boxes to unpack and if he didn't do it now it'd never get done, and he wasn't in much of a mood to leave them all lying around. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Richie burst out laughing as he pulled the old letterman out from the bottom of the box, shaking it a little to get whatever might be on it off; some dust fell off, but mainly it clung to the jacket. 

He slipped it on over his arms and rushed to his small bathroom to see what it looked like. It looked small and he looked like a middle-aged father wearing his old football letterman (even though the coat was originally acquired through two miserable years of FFA). 

The sleeves were still baggy since he'd gotten the coat a size larger just to be safe. In case he ever had a kid... He wished he had a kid to share this shit with. 

He put his hands in the pockets, his fingers rubbing against something wrinkled in the right pocket, paper. He pulled it out. He remembered it. He remembered what was said. 

He walked to the little trash can beside the pedal to throw it away. It was trash. 

He subconsciously felt inside the coat and touched the small opening of the inner pocket on the right side. He opened it, feeling inside. Nothing. 

He touched the left inner pocket and opened it, feeling something smooth with rough edges, feeling where it had been torn when the woman had rushed to give the two boys their tickets. 

He almost pulled it out. 

That fucking ticket. 

*

Richie sighed as he sat on his bike, waiting for Eddie to rush out after receiving how many ever kisses from his mommy, before finally hopping on his own bike and riding past, shouting at Richie to hurry up. 

Richie could've killed him for that, but he pedaled faster until he sped past the shorter male, mocking him with his words.

"Hey! Rich!" Eddie yelled from behind. Richie turning his head slightly to let the other know he was listening. 

"Remember you're paying for my ticket!" 

He sounded smug about it. Of course Eddie would remind him for something that dumb. 

Richie was gonna get him for that later.

*

When they arrived at the stadium Richie glared at Eddie as he bought the tickets.

Eddie had a huge grin the whole time. 

"Here's your tickets, boys." The lady muttered, handing two pink tickets to Richie as she gave them a quick glare as if to tell them to move. 

Eddie took one of the pink tickets and walked ahead, going to the entrance to let a woman rip the bottom of his ticket. She ripped the wrong part, ripping half of it off before ripping the correct part off and handing the other part back to him. 

  
  


The school lost 40 - 16. 

Not that either really knew or cared; they'd left early after half-time to go ride around town. 

  
  
  


"Watch it, Trashmouth," Eddie warned, not seriously of course. 

And suddenly Richie Toizer wanted nothing more than to kiss the idiot in front of him. 

And he almost dropped his stupid, rusting bike.

And he almost stepped forward. 

And he almost grabbed his hand. 

And he almost actually could have kissed him on this stupid bridge. Right where he carved their initials. He wanted nothing more than to kiss the living fuck out him. But he didn't.

"What's wrong? Clown got your tongue?" A small tease. Enough to almost set Richie off. 

"Shut the fuck up." 

And he hopped on his bike and left him. Right beside their initials. 

Richie got his jacket back Monday. Neither mentioned Friday. 

*

Suddenly it didn't feel right to open that pocket anymore. It wasn't his pocket. It was Eddie's.

*

Eddie needed to go get an inhaler.

He didn't even want to go on the bridge. 

  
  
  
  
  


On the ride back he glanced at the spot where he and Trashmouth stood the night before and almost fell off his bike. 

_R+E_.

He stopped and stared at it. And stared at it. And stared at it. And stared. And stared. And stared. And stared. And stared until he realized, _this belongs to someone else_ and continued the short trip back. 


End file.
